


As We Fall

by Lilac Winters21 (Lilac_Winters21)



Series: Ataraxia [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mind Control, So much angst, That's Not How The Force Works, creative license taken with how the force works, major canon divergance, referenced Anakin/Padme cause canon but it's not really a major part of the story, sith mind control
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-02-27 21:23:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13256910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilac_Winters21/pseuds/Lilac%20Winters21
Summary: When Anakin is captured by the Sith, no one is prepared for the chain of events that follows.





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait until the entirety of the fic was written before posting any of it, since I'm not confident in the direction I'm going with it and there's every chance that I'll revise the beginning chapters. This chapter is pretty set in stone, though, and any changes I do have to make will be fairly superficial. I'm posting it because of that, and because I'm hoping that having it posted will help motivate me to write more. Also, I'll probably post excerpts from my drafts on tumblr, so if you want more, hit me up at obiwanwhat on tumblr!  
> Basically, I'm throwing this first chapter out as a pilot to gauge if anyone thinks this idea is as cool as I think it is. So any and all feedback is greatly appreciated! Feel free to tell me what you like about the chapter, what you hate about it, what you think is coming next, anything at all!  
> Enjoy!

Ataraxia: _noun:_ tranquility; the absence of anxiety

 

_There is no emotion, there is the Force._

 

At first he struggled as the tendrils of the Force sunk into his mind, but even as he fought, it called to him, promising serenity with its siren song.  

 _My child,_ it murmured, _rest, my child.  You have fought long and hard.  Return to me, and you will find peace._ He tried to ignore it, tried resist it, but it wore away at his anger and his fear.  He couldn’t remember why he was fighting, but he knew it was important. So he pushed away the Force with all his strength, trying to hold on to his own identity, but every attempt he made to oppose it only made it stronger.  Slowly the Force began to overwhelm him, wiping away thoughts and emotions alike. He was weary and tired of fighting - both this fight and all the others that had followed him throughout his life, and the Force offered him rest from all of it.  He gave in to the overwhelming tide. He allowed it to rush through his mind, consuming his thoughts, memory, and fear; it left nothing but calmness and peace behind.

Faces of the people he loved swam in his vision and grew hazy as his memories faded away.  He couldn’t have cared less. What did the past matter? What were mere individuals in the face of the all-encompassing serenity that he felt?  He had known the Force all his life, and he had thought he’d touched its power. But everything he’d ever known of the Force was less than a drop in its vast ocean.  Now, he could see the power within planets, beyond the very mechanisms of life itself. Everything was crystal clear to him in a way that went beyond sight, beyond any senses, and beyond thought itself: he was simply one with the Force. His name and even sense of self was completely  erased, and it was pure bliss.

Sights entered his eyes and sounds entered his ears, but his mind discarded them.  His body moved and spoke, controlled by an external force, but he was entirely unaware of it.  He felt no pain, no hunger, no thirst. The infinite Force was all he was aware of. Time was meaningless here – he could neither remember the past nor conceptualize a future, and he wouldn’t have wanted to even if he could.  

Abruptly, the Force shook.  Slowly, he became aware of two presences, distinct and separate from the Force.  This puzzled him. He knew nothing but the Force and yet, here they were.

 _Master?_ One of them said.  The word hurt like an arrow piercing through his mind.  What was this? This was not the Force. _Please, please come back!  We need you, Master._ Communication, words - this was something he had forgotten.

 _What?_ The single word was all that he could manage.  Defined thought felt strange and uncomfortable. He tried to pull away from the two presences that were interrupting his perfect bliss.  They, however, seemed to take his response as encouragement.

 _It’s us, Master!  Ahsoka, and Master Kenobi._ If the original words had been an arrow, these were a  wildfire that burned through him.

 _Ahsoka?_ What did that mean?   _Kenobi?_ Why did-?

_Obi-Wan._

The name snapped into focus.  With it came other memories, agonizingly sharp and clear as they seared through his consciousness.  Hot sand on his bare feet and the heat of twin suns on the back of his neck. Cool metal against his hands and engine fumes blistering his lungs, then cheers, screams, and the rumble of machinery digging into his ears as his pod pulled across the finish line.  His mother’s voice, telling him to go and not look back. The burn of a training lightsaber against his arm, the ache of weary muscles after a long day’s training. The cool air of Coruscant - the city planet was always too cold for a boy raised in the desert. The feel of his lips against Padme’s and the scent of her perfume.  The stink of charred flesh and his mother’s limp body in his arms. The pain as he lost his hand. The shock at being given an apprentice. The loss, the unbearable loss, of a war that dragged on and on and on...

 _Please, no,_ he begged, pleading for the memories to stop.  The pain of just being – of thinking, of feeling, of existing – was too overwhelming without a lifetime of pain being added on top of it.  He was falling out of the Force, out of the perfect calm that had taken away his fear and his pain. Desperately, he clung to the Force around him, pleading with it to take him back.  But it was sliding from his grasp; the two presences – Obi-Wan and Ahsoka - were dragging him away from the Force and away from everything he wanted. The separation from the Force was agony; each thought, each emotion, each remnant of a memory was a burning spike slammed into his mind

“No,” he groaned. This time the words came from his mouth as he was slammed back into his body.  He was instantly aware of every nerve ending, every cell - after the freedom of existing as pure consciousness, that awareness was absolute agony.  Words tumbled from his lips, broken mutters and pleas, incoherent begging for the Force to come back, to not abandon him. It didn’t come back, and the pain didn’t stop.

Anakin Skywalker broke down and cried.  


	2. Loss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, I finally got around to doing the writing thing again!!  
> Chapter 2 is also mostly written, so hopefully I'll be able to update again in the relatively near future.   
> For anyone who subscribed when I posted the prologue: Yes, I did change the title. Originally, the fic was titled Ataraxia, but I decided to split the story up into two parts, so this is now entitled "As We Fall" and is part 1 of the Ataraxia series.  
> Also, shout out to xevinali and ignite-the-stars for helping me to edit this!!  
> I hope you enjoy! Any and all feedback - positive or negative - is always very welcome.

_Six Months Earlier_

“Ahsoka, are the charges set?”  Obi-Wan asked over his comm. He crouched behind a rock for cover as blaster fire flew around him.  

“I just primed the last of them, Master Kenobi.”  Ahsoka’s voice responded through the communicator on his wrist.  

“Then get out of there as fast as you can.  We won’t be able to hold the door for much longer.”  He said, ducking down further as a blaster bolt nearly took off his head.  

“Copy that, Master Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan ended the message before jumping out from the rock, igniting his lightsaber.  

“There’s the Jedi!” Blaster bolts began flying toward Obi-Wan as a battle droid pointed toward him.  Obi-Wan sent a bolt spiraling back at its head, but others had heard it and were taking aim at him. Redirecting their bolts, Obi-Wan glanced around, trying to assess the situation.  From his vantage point on top of the boulder, he had a decent view of the battle before him. Clones were spread out in a formation guarding the door to the underground base, and several pockets of clones were hiding behind cover further ahead of the door, sniping at the oncoming droids. Overhead, their gunship roared, spraying the advancing droid forces with heavy gunfire.  It wasn’t enough, however - it seemed like for every droid that was shot down, two more took its place. Obi-Wan grimaced and then jumped down from the rock, charging the droids. His lightsaber was a blur of blue light as it sliced through droid after droid, leaving a trail of broken metal in his wake.

“General, we’re taking heavy casualties,” Cody’s voice came from the communicator on his wrist.  “We’re not going to be able to hold those doors for much longer.”

“Copy that, Commander.” Obi-Wan said shortly into the wrist comm, shifting his lightsaber into a single handed grip.  Twisting his wrist slightly, he changed comm channels. “Ahsoka, where are you?”

“Almost...there,” was the breathless reply, and Obi-Wan guessed she’d run into trouble on her way to the doors.  A blaster bolt flew over his shoulder, barely missing his ear. He refocused on the fight, trying to lead the droids away from the base’s open door to give Ahsoka more time to get out.  Frankly, he wished Anakin was with him. Another lightsaber to hold off the droids would have been helpful, as would Anakin’s piloting skills for escaping the planet. Unfortunately, Anakin had been in the middle of a top-secret investigation of a potential traitor in the Senate when this mission had been assigned, so it had fallen to Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, and a platoon of the 212th to serve as a diplomatic liaison to a planet that was supposedly undecided in its allegiance.  Anakin was probably going to laugh himself sick once he heard how the supposedly diplomatic mission had turned out.

“Striker, bring the ship down as close to the doors as you can.  We’ll need to evacuate quickly once Ahsoka gets out of the bunker, we’re taking heavy losses.” Obi-Wan said into the comm, speaking to the pilot of the gunship.  

“Yes sir.” Striker replied.

“Cody, order your men to fall back to the door.  As soon as the ship lands, get everyone aboard. Ahsoka will be out of the door in a few minutes.”  Even as he said it, his wrist comm beeped again.

“I’m out, Master Kenobi! The bombs should go off in ten minutes, that gives us time to get a safe distance away.” Ahsoka said through the comm.  

“Good.  Get on the ship with the clones as soon as it lands, I’ll be there in a moment.”  Slowly, Obi-Wan began to draw back from the fight. Though he continued to reflect blaster bolts back at the droids, but he retreated back toward the door as he did so.  Behind him, he could hear the roar of the gunship landing, and the creaking of the ship as the bay door opened.

“We’re all on board, Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka’s voice rang through his wrist comm a few minutes later as he continued to hold off the droids. “We can take off as soon as you get on board.”

“I’ll be there shortly.  Tell Striker to prepare for takeoff.”  Obi-Wan cut off the transmission and was considering the best path to the ship when, without warning, a wave of pain shot through his skull.  Caught off guard, he stumbled and nearly fell, barely holding on to his lightsaber. His skull felt as though it was splitting apart. What in the name of the Force...?  A stray blaster bolt grazed his arm, and it _burned,_ pulling him back to his surroundings. Through the haze of pain, he could only focus on one thought: get to the ship.  Forgetting all strategy, Obi-Wan turned, deactivated his lightsaber, and began to sprint toward the ship, which lay about five hundred meters away.  He tried to reach for the Force - both to release his pain and to draw the strength from it to move faster. Nothing but another wave of agony through his skull - even more intense than the last - answered him.  This time, he did fall, tripping over an uneven patch of ground as the pain in his head began to overwhelm him.

He knew there were droids coming behind him, and he knew they would kill him if he didn’t move.  But the burning in his skull was beginning to spread throughout his body - every muscle tensing in agony, every bone aching more deeply than he would have imagined to be possible.  He tried to block out the pain, to release it to the Force, but again, trying to touch the Force only lead to more pain. _Something’s wrong with the Force_ he thought - or did he say it aloud?  He wasn’t sure. He thought he might be screaming, but it was hard to tell when reality was nothing more than an absent blur around him.  In agony, unable to move or even to think clearly, Obi-Wan reached for the Force one final time, desperate for answers to what was happening.  The overwhelming surge of pain came again, but this time he pushed through it, reaching out further even though touching the Force grew more and more torturous with each passing second.  He was rewarded by the faintest sense of a force-signature – a force signature he knew all too well. _No,_ Obi-Wan thought, it can’t be him, he’s safe back on Coruscant.  

“Anakin.” The name slid from Obi-Wan’s lips as finally, mercifully, everything went black.

* * *

 

Back in the ship, Ahsoka screamed without warning and fell to her knees, clutching her head.  

“Commander?  Commander Tano, what’s wrong?” Cody asked.  She shook her head mutely, tears streaming down her face.  

“General Kenobi, there’s something wrong with Commander Tano, we need to get out of here.  Sir, where are you?” Cody waited for a response, but nothing but silence came over the radio.  He turned back to Ahsoka.

“Commander, please, can you tell me what’s wrong?”  Ahsoka was lying on the floor now, curled up in a fetal position.  She’d stopped screaming, but it was clear that her pain hadn’t decreased.  She turned slightly toward him, her eyes glassy.

“Something’s wrong with the Force,” she managed to choke out.  “It-ahhh” She broke off, gasping in agony.

This had to be some sort of new Separatist weapon –  one designed to cripple the Jedi. It didn’t seem to be affecting any of his men yet, but they needed to get out of here.  Where the kriff was General Kenobi?

If the General was being affected by the weapon the same way Ahsoka was, he would be in no shape to make it back to the ship.  Cody looked away from Ahsoka, scanning the men around him.

“Boil, Breaker, Jeck, Bomber, and Crys, you’re with me. We’re going to get the General.  The rest of you, cover us as best you can from the hanger opening.” The men he’d selected nodded and fell in step next to him.  Cody turned to Gregor. “If we don’t make it back, or the ship starts taking too much fire, tell Striker to take off.”

“Yes sir,” Gregor said.  “But you’ll be back, sir.”  

“I hope so,” Cody muttered, drawing his blaster.  The other five he’d chosen did the same. Stepping off the ramp of the ship onto the planet’s surface, the first thing he heard was the screaming.  It was a tortured, animalistic shriek that went to go on, and on. Cody scanned the ground in front of him, looking for the source of the noise. To the left of the ship, about 200 meters away, a twitching body lay in the dirt, the ground around it being splattered with blaster bolts.  Cody’s trained eye took in the situation: his General was defenseless on the ground, and the droids would be on top of him in a moment. If they didn’t act quickly, the General would die. It looked like he’d already taken several blaster bolts, and that was already more than a normal human could survive.  

“On me, now.” Cody barked, gesturing toward General Kenobi.  “We’ll have to carry him back to the ship.” Boil and Breaker went in front, clearing the ground in front of General Kenobi.  The rest of the clones followed them, shooting around the two in the front. They moved quickly, reaching the General after a few minutes.  

“Crys, grab his legs - I’ll get his arms.  The rest of you, cover us.” The General was unconscious now, but Cody could still see the rise and fall of his chest that proved he was still alive.  Cody grabbed the General under his shoulders, as Crys grabbed his ankles, and together they lifted him off the ground. Even in the middle of the fight, Cody registered how badly General Kenobi was wounded.  His face was a mess of blood and his nose was at an unnatural angle, making Cody think it was broken. The bones in his shoulder were shifting beneath Cody’s grip, suggesting a fracture somewhere. Obi-Wan’s meager armor had barely protected him from the blaster shots.  Somehow, nothing vital had been hit – Cody suspected that after General Kenobi had fallen, the droids had assumed he was dead, and returned to sweeping the area with blaster bolts rather than targeting him. The General still looked bad, though; his robes were torn, singed, and covered in dirt stains. His left leg especially was a mess of burned flesh, blood, dirt, and ruined cloth.  Cody was grateful that General Kenobi was unconscious, because they were almost certainly making his injuries worse by carrying him like this. There was no time to move him more carefully, however, and the General was better off severely injured than dead.

Blasterfire ricocheted around them, causing explosions of dirt where bolts hit the ground.  When the clones had been moving toward Obi-Wan, they’d been moving quickly, and the clankers had still been focused on searching for Obi-Wan.  Now, the droids’ entire attention was focused on them, and carrying Obi-Wan slowed them down. Cody knew it was only a matter of time until one of them got shot.

As he thought it, a blaster bolt slammed into his side, just above his hip.  Cody gasped in pain, but managed not to drop the General. His armor had protected him from the full effect of the bolt, but damage had still been done.  The ship was only fifty meters away. He could make it that far before collapsing. They just had to get the General to the ship. They could do this.

Three blaster bolts slammed into Crys’s head.  

Crys crumpled to the ground.  When the weight Cody was carrying suddenly doubled, the General slipped out of his grasp, crashing to the ground as well.  

“Stop!” He ordered the other men, before they could stumble into him and trip over the General and Crys.  “Crys is down. Jeck, grab the General’s legs so we can keep going.” There was no time for sorrow or hesitation.  If they didn’t back to the ship quickly, they would all die.

* * *

 

By the time they made it to the ship, Breaker and Bomber were both dead, and Boil was shooting with his left hand after a shot had rendered his right arm useless.  The second they were onboard, Gregor slammed his hand over the button that closed the ship’s bay doors.

“Striker, they’re onboard, take off _now_ ,” he ordered.  Cody slumped to the ground, his hand pressed to his side where he had been shot, and Boil stood cradling his injured arm.  General Kenobi and Commander Tano were both laid out on the floor, unconscious. Gregor mentally ran through the list of all the clones who had come on this mission.  They didn’t have a medic with them - this was supposed to have been a diplomatic mission, they hadn’t thought they’d need one. The ship was also small enough that they didn’t have a sickbay, meaning that they also didn’t have much in the way of medical supplies.  

“Switch,” Gregor called out, naming the only clone on the mission who had some level of medical training.  “Do what you can for the General and the Commander, and then take a look at Cody, Boil, and anyone else who was injured in the fight.  Wooley, you search the ship for whatever medical supplies you can find - there has to be a basic medkit around here somewhere. Hatchet and Dale, stay with Switch - if he needs an extra pair of hands, help him.  I’m going to try to get a message through to Coruscant.” The clones he’d named looked briefly to Cody, who nodded, and then moved to start the tasks given to them. Gregor made his way to the bridge, where the main communication system was.  

“How long until we can send a message to Coruscant?” He asked Striker, walking into the cockpit.  Striker glanced at a screen on the display in front of him.

“We’re still too far away - it’ll be another few hours of hyperspace travel before a message will go through,” Striker replied.  

“Let me or Cody know as soon as we’re within range.” Gregor said.  “Something happened to the Jedi, so we’ll need to contact the Jedi Temple as soon as possible.” Saying that felt wrong, somehow.  Clones didn’t contact the Jedi Council directly – that was a job for their Generals. But in this case, with both of the Jedi both unconscious and Cody injured, it fell to Gregor to let the Council know what had happened at Takodana.  

“Yes sir,” Striker said.  Gregor left the cockpit, and walked back to the living quarters of the ship.  It was nothing impressive or particularly comfortable, just a series of bunks built into a wall of the ship and a small kitchen unit and refresher in the corner.  Switch had converted it into a temporary sickbay; General Kenobi, Commander Tano, and several clones were all stretched out on bunks.

“Is there any change in their condition?” Gregor asked Switch, gesturing at the Jedi.  Switch shook his head.

“Nothing, Captain. I can’t find anything physically wrong with Commander Tano.  Maybe if I did a brain scan I could find something, but I don’t have the equipment to do that until we get back to Coruscant. And I put some bacta on the worst of General Kenobi’s blaster wounds, but that won’t do much for the injuries to his leg.” Switch’s expression was grim.  “If he wasn’t a Jedi, he’d probably be dead now. The human body wasn’t meant to sustain that much damage. He needs to be looked at by a proper medic, probably a Jedi Healer. Until then, all I can really do is keep him sedated for the rest of the trip home.”

“Do that.” Gregor said.  “How are the other injured men?”

“Cody should be fine after some rest and bacta.  Pel, Zeke, and Seven all suffered superficial wounds that should heal with the same.  But Boil...he’ll have to have his arm looked by real medics once we get back, but I don’t think his hand will ever be the same again.”  Gregor cursed. They’d lost nearly half the men they’d came with. Thirteen dead, plus Boil, who would be sent back to Kamino if his hand truly was damaged beyond repair: the Republic didn’t waste prosthetics on clones.  

“Kriffing Separatists, “ He began, but was distracted by a commotion on the other side of the room. Commander Tano had woken up, and was trying to push herself out of the bunk.  

“Ugh, my head _hurts_ .” She complained.  “What happened? Last thing I remember is blowing up the weapons bunker.  Did I get hit on my way back to the ship? Anakin will _never_ let me live it down if I did.” Her smile suddenly slid off her face and she tensed visibly.

“Captain Gregor, where are we right now?” She asked, fear evident in her tone.  

“We’re in hyperspace, on our way back to Coruscant from Takodana, Commander.” Gregor said, confused.  “We’ll be within communications range of the planet in a few hours.”

“That’s not far enough...I should be able to sense him.” Ahsoka muttered.  She cocked her head to the side, as though she was listening to something. “Why can’t I sense him?”

“Commander?” Gregor asked, confused.  

“I can’t- I think something’s happened to Anakin,” she said, fear making her lekku twitch.  “At this range, I should be able to sense him through our bond, and I...I can’t feel him at all.  Where’s Master Kenobi?” She asked. Gregor nodded to the bed behind hers, and Ahsoka’s expression changed from fear to horror.  “What happened?” she asked.

“We don’t know, Commander.”  Cody pushed himself off a nearby bunk, wincing, and walked over toward them.  “We think there may have been some sort of Separatist weapon designed to incapacitate the Jedi.  You collapsed once we got on the ship – you were clutching your head, and you said there was something wrong with the Force.  Eventually, you fell unconscious. We believe that General Kenobi was affected at the same time you were, but he hadn’t made it back to the ship yet, so he was injured before we could recover him.” Cody said.  Ahsoka’s frown deepened.

“No, it wasn’t a Separatist weapon.  There was a disturbance in the Force –  something that affected me and Master Kenobi specifically.”  A cold, hollow feeling was spreading through her chest. There was only one type of disturbance that would explain both the psychic backlash she and Master Kenobi had received and the fact that she couldn’t reach Anakin now.  She swallowed.

“I think Anakin is dead.”


	3. Waking to a Nightmare

“Burns everywhere, I’m sensing at least one broken bone…” Voices washed over Obi-Wan as he drifted to consciousness.  The first thing he registered was pain; his head ached, and it felt as though every inch of his body had taken a beating.  

“...lucky to be alive...Oh, I think he’s waking up.”

“Sedate him again.  Trust me, he doesn’t want to be awake until after he’s spent the night in a bacta tank.”

“No, wait.” Obi-Wan begged, the words feelling thick and indistinct in his mouth.  “The last thing I felt in the Force – something happened to Anakin. You have to let me go, I have to find him.”  Silence from the voices above him. Then,

“Sedate him now, or he’ll panic and hurt himself more.” Obi-Wan felt a pinch in his shoulder as he began to struggle.  His limbs refused to respond to his attempts to move, however. 

“Nooo,” He slurred as darkness began to overtake him.  “Have to help Anakin...” And then everything faded to black again.  

* * *

When Obi-Wan woke up again, he could tell he was in the Halls of Healing, lying on a bed in one of the private rooms.  His mind felt cloudy and unfocused, but the only pain he felt was a dull throb in his leg.  _ What happened?  _ He thought vaguely.  Memories seemed to float just outside his grasp.   _ Vokara must have me on some serious painkillers,  _ he thought absently as he tried again to think back.  They had been on Takodana, he recalled. He’d been fighting droids to give Ahsoka time to escape, and then-

And then there’d been pain, something very wrong with the Force, and Anakin had been behind it.  Obi-Wan pushed back the covers of the bed , trying to swing his legs off the bed onto the ground.  This was made more difficult by the fact that his left leg was heavily wrapped in bandages and his right arm was in a sling, but he had nearly managed it when a voice came from the doorway.

“Master Kenobi, stop that before you hurt yourself.” Vokara Che walked into the room, probably drawn by his return to consciousness.  

“Master Che, is Anakin here?  Something happened in the Force that was centered on him...” Obi-Wan stretched out his senses to reach his bond with Anakin, and gasped at the gaping emptiness that was where the bond should have been.  His head spun, and he fell back onto the bed. 

“Master Kenobi,  you’re recovering from several blaster wounds, a broken collarbone, and psychic backlash from a broken Force-bond, now is not the time to overexert yourself,” Vokara Che scolded. 

Broken Force-Bond.  Psychic backlash. A gaping emptiness where Anakin should be.  Even through the haze of the drugs, a wave of grief swept through Obi-Wan as he realized what this meant.  

“How did he die?” Obi-Wan asked, his voice quiet.  “Anakin was  _ on Coruscant _ while we were on Takodana, what could  _ possibly  _ have happened that-?”  He trailed off, leaving the rest of the sentence unspoken.  

“We still aren’t sure what happened.”  Vokara’s voice was gentle and consoling.  “He reported in about an hour before the clones reported you and Ahsoka collapsed.  He sounded completely normal –  relaxed, even. When the Council got word of what happened to you and Ahsoka, they sent out a team of Jedi to investigate. No one’s found anything yet.”  She didn’t say it, but Obi-Wan could tell what she was thinking. If Anakin’s death had caused major enough psychic repercussions that it had incapacitated  _ Obi-Wan  _ –  a Jedi Master who suffered no such repercussions when his own Master was killed –  it must have been absolutely horrifying and probably messy. It shouldn’t take long for the Jedi to find the location of where it happened, since violent deaths of Force-Sensitives – especially Force-Sensitives as strong as Anakin –  tended to leave an imprint in the Force that Jedi were able to track. He pushed the thought away, not wanting to think about a team of Jedi – a team who probably didn’t know Anakin personally – coming across Anakin’s broken, mutilated body.  

“Where’s Ahsoka?” Obi-Wan asked instead.  

“In the room next door to this one.  She wasn’t physically injured, other than a few bruises from falling down.  I kept her overnight for observation to make sure there wasn’t any lasting mental damage, and she’s still asleep there.”  Vokara said. 

Obi-Wan struggled again to get up.  “I should go see her, she must be devastated-”

“Lay  _ down  _ Obi-Wan,” Vokara Che said, exasperated.  “You’re not going to do the girl any good by waking her up at in the middle of the night the day after her master died.” Obi-Wan glanced at the wall chrono and realized that she was correct; the current time of day had been the last thing on his mind.  

“And besides that,” Vokara continued, “You aren’t going anywhere until I examine your injuries.  You spent last night in a bacta tank, and that took care of the blaster wounds on your shoulder, back, and side.  The damage to your leg was much more severe, however. You took a number of shots in your left leg, and as a result there’s some serious muscle damage.  Frankly, you’re lucky that we didn’t have to amputate. You’ll have to stay completely off it for a week at least, and you’ll have to use a brace and a crutch for several weeks after that.”

“A few  _ weeks?”  _ Obi-Wan asked, incredulous.  “I can’t be out of the field that long! My men need me, the Council needs me-” This time, when he pushed himself out of bed, Vokara merely stood back to observe rather than trying to stop him.  As soon as he tried to put weight on his left leg, a bolt of agony shot through it and it collapsed under him. 

“ _ Now  _ will you listen to me when I say you need a crutch?” Vokara asked as she offered him a hand to help him up.  He grasped it with the arm not in a sling, leaning on his good leg to push himself back into the bed. 

“I...may have to bow to your medical advice on this occasion,” Obi-Wan gasped, still wincing from the pain.  

“Good.  One of my healers will come by later to start healing your collarbone, but the leg is trickier –  we can speed up the healing slightly, but we have to let the damaged muscle mass grow back on its own.  Tomorrow, I’ll get a hoverchair for you, but for the rest of today, I don’t want you leaving this bed.”

“But the Council, they’ll want my report on what happened on Takodana-” Obi-Wan protested.  

“Then they’ll have to come here to get it.”  Vokara said firmly. “If you want to walk on that leg again, you aren’t leaving this bed for at least a day.  That’s non-negotiable, Master Kenobi.” Her voice softened slightly. “When Ahsoka wakes up, I’ll send her in here.  But for now, you need to rest and heal.”

“Well, seeing as I can’t actually leave the bed, I suppose I’ll have to follow your directions,” Obi-Wan said.  “Would it be possible for someone to bring me a datapad? That way I can at least start on my official report of the mission.”

“I’d much rather you actually rested, but if it’ll keep you from trying to get out of bed, I’ll take what I can get.” Vokara Che said. “I’ll send one of the padawans down to your quarters to get your datapad and bring it back to you later.”

“Thank you, Master Che.  I’ll try not to be too awful of a patient for you.” Obi-Wan said.

“That’ll be the day.” Vokara’s tone was serious, but her lips twitched in a smile.  Apparently satisfied that Obi-Wan was no longer about to try to bolt from the hospital wing, she headed toward the door.  

“And Obi-Wan?” She turned over her shoulder as she stood in the doorway to speak to him.  “I’m truely sorry about Anakin.”

“Thank you, Vokara.” Obi-Wan said, and she closed the door, leaving him alone.  

_ Anakin.   _

Grief rolled through Obi-Wan, threatening to overwhelm him.  While Vokara had been there, he’d been able to focus on their conversation, compartmentalizing the information that Anakin was dead.  But now, with nothing to distract him, it truly hit him that Anakin – his best friend, the closest thing he had to a son or a brother –  was  _ gone _ , lost to him forever.  Tears welled in his eyes, and he let them spill down onto his cheeks.  Anakin deserved his tears, he thought. Anakin had deserved so much better than to be murdered in some back alley of Coruscant.  He’d always thought that Anakin would end up as a Master some day, would probably end up on the Council if he could ever grow up a little.  But now he would never have the chance to. 

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure how long he wept over Anakin.  It felt like both an eternity, and only a few moments later, when a knock on the door broke through his grief.  Hurriedly, he tried to compose himself, using his free hand to brush away tears. He suspected he still looked as awful as he felt, but there wasn’t much he could do about that at the moment.  

“Come in,” he called out, and the door opened to reveal a teenage Pantoran girl in healer’s robes clutching a datapad.  

“Um, Master Che sent me to deliver this to you, Master Kenobi.”  The girl said. 

“Yes, thank you, Padawan...?” Obi-Wan said, reaching for the datapad.  

“Tacha Ora, Master.” She crossed the room to hand him the ‘pad, and seemed to take in his red-rimmed eyes and blotchy face.  

“Are- are you all right, Master? I can get one of the full Healers if you need more medicine for the pain.” She asked nervously.  

“That won’t be necessary, Padawan Ora.  I’ll be fine.” A small lie, but it wasn’t as through painkillers would help him through the pain of grief.  

“Um...well, if you’re sure, Master Kenobi.  Is there anything else you need?” She asked.  

“A pitcher of water would be splendid, if possible.” He wasn’t hungry - he usually wasn’t, for a day or two after being seriously injured - but he was thirsty.  

“Of course, Master.  I’ll get that for you now.” She turned and left the room quickly, probably embarrassed by his visible distress.  

By the time Tacha returned with a pitcher of water and a glass, Obi-Wan had gained a greater measure of composure over himself.  

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said, indicating she could place them on the table beside his bed. After setting them down, she turned and walked back toward the door.  She turned nervously back toward him when she stood in the doorway. 

“Is...is there anything else I can do for you, Master?” She asked.  

“No, I’ll be fine.  Thank you, Padawan Ora.” She nodded quickly and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Unwilling to be alone with his thoughts again, Obi-Wan picked up the datapad.  Typing with one hand was difficult, but he welcomed the distraction it gave him - it took his mind off Anakin and the pain in his leg.  He was halfway through the report on the mess that had been the Takodana mission when a tall human male with black hair and a tan complexion stuck his head in the door. 

“I’m Healer Tahlo Laka,” he said.  “Master Che sent me to start healing your leg.”  Laka entered the room, grabbing the chair that sat in the corner of the room and dragging it over to the bed.  

“If it’s all right, I’m going to unwrap the bandages so that I can begin the healing.” Laka said, his tone clear and professional.  “As Master Che may have mentioned, the damage to your leg is quite serious. There’s severe burns on your thigh, and two blaster shots directly hit muscles in your calf.  Much of the muscle mass was burned away by the blasts – that’s what’s going to take the longest to heal. The healing I do tonight will mainly focus on healing the burns and on stimulating the damaged tissue to promote growth.  Nothing but time will be able to regrow the tissue, I’m afraid, and you’ll have to come back for regular treatments.” Obi-Wan nodded his assent, gritting his teeth against the flares of pain from his leg as Laka began to unwrap the bandages.  Laka stopped, noticing his wincing. 

“I’m going to put you into a healing trance, if that’s okay with you,”  Laka said. “It’ll be less painful for you, and easier for me to do my work.”

“That’s fine,” Obi-Wan managed to say.  Laka moved his hands from Obi-Wan’s leg to place two fingers on each of Obi-Wan’s temples.  

“Just try to relax, Master Kenobi,” Laka said.  Obi-Wan tried to allow the tension to seep from his muscles, knowing it would make it easier for Laka to do his job.  He felt Laka’s unfamiliar presence brush up against his mind, and a moment later Obi-Wan was drifting in the expanses of the Force.  

Hours –  or minutes, time was difficult to tell in the Force –  later, Obi-Wan felt Laka calling him back, and his mind slid out of the Force and back in to his body.  His leg was once again wrapped in bandages, and it  _ hurt.   _ A thousand other aches were also beginning to make themselves known across his body.  He guessed that this meant the painkillers had worn off by now. 

“The burns on your thigh are mostly healed now, though the skin will continue to be delicate for another few weeks.  The healing on the muscle damage is also begun, but you won’t notice any difference for a week or two.” Laka said. “I also worked on your collarbone –  it was a clean break, so with the healing it should be all right in a day or two.”

“Thank you very much, Master Laka.” Obi-Wan said.  “When will I be able to walk again?” Vokara had told him, but maybe this Healer would have a more optimistic answer.  A slight grin touched the Healer’s mouth for the first time since he’d entered the room. 

“Master Che said that you would ask.  My answer is the same as hers; you need to stay completely off that leg for a full day.  I’d like you in a hoverchair for a week after that, and then you can switch to a crutch and a brace for another two to three weeks.  There are no shortcuts in healing destroyed tissue, Master Kenobi.” Laka said. Obi-Wan had to smile wryly at Vokara’s foresight, even if he was disappointed by Laka’s answer.  

“I see.” Obi-Wan said.  Laka stood up from his chair.  

“Well, unless there’s anything else I can do for you, Master Kenobi, I’ll take my leave.”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan said.  “I wouldn’t want to keep you from your other patients.”  Laka inclined his head toward Obi-Wan in gratitude, and then quickly left the room.  

Now that his head was clearer, Obi-Wan went back through what he’d written so far in his report and was mildly annoyed to find a number of errors.   _ That’s what you get for writing a report on painkillers,  _ he thought to himself.  At least Laka had said that he’d be able to use his arm in a few days.  Not being able to walk was horrible, but not being able to walk and only having one functional arm was even worse. Sighing heavily, Obi-Wan continued typing out the report.  

* * *

Ahsoka stood in front of the Council, hand clasped behind her back as she gave her verbal report of the Takodana mission.  Normally, Master Kenobi would give the report as the General in charge of the mission, but Vokara Che had flatly refused to allow him to leave the hospital wing or for members of the Council to visit and debrief him for at least another day.  As a result, Ahsoka had been summoned instead. Vokara Che hadn’t liked that either, but since Ahsoka was physically completely healthy, and they couldn’t detect any brain damage from the psychic backlash, there was nothing she could do about it.  Ahsoka hadn’t even been allowed to speak with Master Kenobi before she’d been ordered to come before the Council. 

“So Takodana has gone over to the Separatists.” Eeth Koth said grimly as Ahsoka finished.  “This is troubling news.” 

“The planet has always been known for its neutrality.  If they’ve chosen to actively side with the Separatists, other neutral systems may follow their example.” Depa Billaba said.  The other Councillors nodded, looking concerned. Ahsoka knew she should probably stay silent and allow them to discuss the implications of Takodana’s actions on the war effort, but at the moment she had other concerns.  

“Masters, what about Master Skywalker?  Have the search teams....found anything yet?” She asked, knowing she was pushing her luck by doing so.  The Council didn’t like being interrupted by padawans, but she had to know. 

“Nothing yet, Ahsoka.” Plo Koon said.  His breathing mask always made reading his tone a bit difficult, but she thought he sounded sympathetic.  “You will be informed as soon as they report in with news.”

“Another thing to discuss with you, this council has.” Yoda said, tapping his gimmer stick on the floor.  Ahsoka looked at him, confused. 

Without a Master, you now are, Padawan.  Choose a new Master, you must,” Yoda said.  “Ready for your Trials, you are not. More, you have to learn.”  Ahsoka gaped at him. Anakin wasn’t even officially declared dead yet, and Yoda was already asking her to replace him?

“Master Yoda, please, I need to grieve for Anakin before I can make that decision.  Please, don’t make me choose now.” She begged. 

“Time is not something that we have in this war, Padawan Tano.” Mace Windu said.  “You’re one of the most promising padawans in the Order. We can’t afford to keep you out of the field for long.” Any other time, the praise would have made Ahsoka beam with pride, but right now it felt empty and hollow.  

“Please Masters, at least give me a few days.  I’ll decide after that, I promise.” She said. The councilors glanced at each other, and finally Mace Windu nodded.  

“You have three days, Padawan Tano. After that, you must find a Knight who is willing to train you for the remainder of your apprenticeship, and you will be deployed with them.” He said.  

“Thank you, Masters.” She responded, bowing slightly.  

“You are dismissed then, Padawan.” Mace said.  Ahsoka bowed again, and hurried out of the room.  This time, she headed straight for Master Kenobi’s room in the hospital wing.  She barely managed to get in the room and wrap her arms around him before she began to cry. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been written for about three weeks, and I've come to terms with the fact that while it's perhaps not as good as it could be, there's always room for improvement and I can use that excuse to put off posting forever. So if there's anything you see that you think I should fix, feel free to tell me in a review!  
> Chapter 3 (I don't count the prologue as a chapter, so this is chapter 2) is about halfway written, but it aggressively does not want to be completed so...idk what that means for my update schedule. The goal is sometime in the next two weeks, but that may or may not be reality.


	4. Better Off Dead

When Ahsoka stumbled into Obi-Wan’s room and launched herself toward him, Obi-Wan was too startled to do anything more than put his arms around her as she began to sob. She sat on the edge of his bed and rested her forehead on his shoulder as she wept.  Obi-Wan gritted his teeth to avoid crying out in agony as she leaned against his bad leg. He was much more willing to suffer through the pain than to push Ahsoka away, however. There was nothing to say, so Obi-Wan held her silently as she cried. He knew that no words would make the inescapable reality feel any better.  Anakin was gone and he didn’t know what either of them were going to do without him. 

“I just-I can’t believe he’s really gone,” she finally whispered, her sobs fading into hiccups.  “He’s  _ gone.” _

“I know,” Obi-Wan said, “I know.”

Ahsoka clung to him for only a few minutes more before she pulled back, embarrassed.  

“I’m sorry, Master Kenobi.  I just-” She broke off, shaking her head as tears began to fill her eyes again.

“It’s alright, Ahsoka.  I miss him too.” He said quietly.  It was easier to hold himself together for Ahsoka than for his own sake. 

“The Council...they told me that I have to choose a new master.  But I _can’t,_ Master Kenobi, not so soon after-” Her voice broke, and she left the statement unfinished.  Obi-Wan frowned.   
“Three _days_?” He asked, horrified.  “It’s customary to give padawans at least two weeks to mourn their Master’s death before they must select a new master, even considering the war.  What are they thinking?” Ahsoka just shook her head, and buried her face in his shoulder again. He tightened his grasp around her. 

“I’ll talk to them – there’s absolutely no reason for them to make you choose so soon.” He said reassuringly.  “And...when you’re ready to decide...if you’d like, I would be honored to be your master.” He practically was a second master to her already, with the amount of time that he and Anakin had been assigned to work together.  Transitioning between masters – especially after a death – was never easy for a padawan, but becoming Obi-Wan’s apprentice would probably be the least painful transition possible for Ahsoka. Ahsoka finally pulled back from Obi-Wan, swiping away the tears in her eyes.  She smiled weakly.

“Thank you, Master Kenobi.  I...I can’t decide now, but thank you.” She said, her voice shaking.  She stayed for a while longer, describing what had happened on Takodana after Obi-Wan had fallen unconscious.  He was deeply saddened to hear that three clones had died getting him back to the ship safely – they were his men and he was supposed to protect them, not the other way around.  As soon as he was able, he promised himself he would visit the 212th’s barracks to thank the men who had rescued him, and to pay his respects to the ones who had died in the attempt.  

Eventually, Ahsoka had to leave – with Anakin gone, there were several logistical matters regarding the 501st that she had to deal with – leaving Obi-Wan alone once again.  A few minutes after Ahsoka left, Obi-Wan grabbed the comm link sitting on the table beside his bed and entered Mace Windu’s frequency. 

“Care to inform me why in the name of the Force the Council gave Ahsoka  _ three days  _ to choose a new Master?” He said in lieu of a greeting.  

“Hello to you too, Obi-Wan.  Aren’t you supposed to be resting?”  Obi-Wan was in no mood for Mace’s sarcasm. 

“Mace, she ran into my room  _ crying.   _ What was the Council thinking?”  He heard Mace sigh.

“There’s a lot to catch you up on, and it will be easier to do in person.  Are you still in the Halls of Healing?” Mace asked. 

“Yes, Vokara isn’t letting me leave for another day at least.” Obi-Wan said. 

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Mace said, ending the call.  Obi-Wan absently picked up his datapad, and continued typing out his report until the door opened without warning to reveal Mace.  He entered the room and sat in the chair beside Obi-Wan’s bed. 

“Force, you look awful.”  Mace said. 

“So kind of you to say so, Mace.” Obi-Wan said, raising an eyebrow.  “So what the hell were you all thinking?”

“The Chancellor’s been putting pressure on us ever since Anakin vanished, Obi-Wan.  I don’t know how he knew about Anakin’s death since we still haven’t officially declared him dead, but as soon as you and Ahsoka got back, he’s been insisting we send you back in the field.  He says it will ‘boost morale’ and ‘assure the people of the Republic that the war effort will still go on even without the war’s greatest hero.’” From his sarcastic tone, Obi-Wan guessed that Mace was directly quoting the Chancellor.  “In your case, the severity of your injuries gave us a reason to hold him off, but for Ahsoka...your injuries only made him more insistent that we send her out again as soon as possible.”

“And the Council is allowing him to dictate what we do with our padawans? Force, Mace, I know the Chancellor has been grasping for more and more power, but surely he can’t  _ do  _ this-.”

“Obi-Wan, he wanted Ahsoka to be promoted to General and knighted.”  Mace’s words and the flat tone they were delivered in stopped Obi-Wan cold.  “He wanted her to take Anakin’s place, since the 501st and the public are both already familiar with her.  Sending her out this quickly with a new Master was a compromise to get him to back off.”

“But she’s only seventeen!  Even  _ Anakin  _ wasn’t knighted until he was nineteen, and he was the youngest knight in a century.” Obi-Wan said, stunned.  “Knighting padawans has always been a decision that was strictly up to the Council. How in the Force did the Chancellor try to argue that it was any of his concern?”

“He said that the Grand Army of the Republic was under the control of the Senate, and as an officer in the army Ahsoka fell under his jurisdiction.”  Mace said. 

“Force.  Will the Senate back him up in all this?” Obi-Wan asked. “You spend more time dealing with politicians than I do.”

“I don’t know, Obi-Wan.  The majority of the Senate has been worshiping every word Chancellor Palpatine’s said recently, and there’s many of them who would love to have more direct control over the Order.  So far, we’ve avoided having to refuse a direct order from the Chancellor. We don’t know what would happen if we did, and frankly, the Order cannot afford to alienate itself from the Senate.  We can’t fight both the Separatists and the Republic.” Mace said, sounding tired. Obi-Wan rested his head on his good hand. 

“Damn.  When did things get this bad?” Obi-Wan asked rhetorically.  Mace answered anyway. 

“You’ve been away on missions for most of the past several months.  It’s been getting steadily worse, but the Chancellor has never pressed this hard before.” Mace rested a hand against his temples, as if trying to ward off a building migraine.  “I’m afraid that Anakin’s death may be a turning point for the Order’s relationship with the Senate. Little as I like to admit it, Anakin’s friendship with the Chancellor may have been the only thing holding him off from trying to control us more directly.”  

“This feels  _ wrong _ , Mace.  I sense that there’s more going on here than we can see.” Obi-Wan said.  

“I do too, Obi-Wan, but for now there’s nothing we can do other than try to appease the Chancellor.” Mace said, sounding resigned.  

“I offered to take Ahsoka as my apprentice, you know,” Obi-Wan remarked.  Mace stared at him.

“Damn it Obi-Wan, you have a talent for making things difficult for yourself, don’t you?” He asked.  Obi-Wan didn’t bother answering. “Did she accept?”

“No,” Obi-Wan said.  “She needed more time to accept Anakin’s death before she could decide.”  Mace’s glare diminished slightly. 

“Do you realize what kind of position the Council will be in if she does accept?  You’re Temple-bound for the next month at least. As your padawan, she would be as well.  The Council will either have to tell the Chancellor she won’t be able to go back into the field after all, or they’ll have to separate her from her new Master and send her out into the field with another knight.”

“If we refuse the Chancellor, we run the risk of him ordering us to send her into the field.  If we send her into the field of our own accord, we’ll break the Order’s customs regarding keeping padawans and new masters together and risk Ahsoka’s mental and emotional state.” Obi-Wan said quietly.  “It’s an impossible position.”

“It certainly is.  Force, Obi-Wan, you couldn’t have waited an  _ hour  _ longer to hear about the current situation before you offered to take her on?”  Obi-Wan began to reply, but Mace waved off his response. “It doesn’t matter now.  Plo Koon is also planning to offer to take her as a padawan. With any luck, she’ll chose him, and we’ll be spared this mess.”

“It’s still her decision, Mace.  Politics or not, the Council can’t take that away from her.” Obi-Wan said.  

“I kriffing  _ know  _ that, Obi-Wan.” Mace snapped.  Then he sighed. “Just...be careful.  Don’t let your emotions in this matter blind you to the implications of your actions.”

“I won’t, Mace.  But the Council has to draw a line somewhere with the Chancellor.  If we don’t...there’s no telling what we’ll become.” Obi-Wan said.  

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Mace said.  Abruptly, he stood up. “I should go. Vokara made me swear that I wouldn’t stay long before she would let me in here.”  Obi-Wan smiled wryly. 

“Of course she did.  Thank you for telling me about everything that’s happened.” He said.  

“May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan.” Mace said as he walked to the door.  As the door closed, Obi-Wan heard him mutter, “You’re going to need it.”

* * *

For most of the rest of the day, Obi-Wan was left to his own devices.  At one point, Tacha Ora came back with a tray of food for him. He wasn’t the slightest bit hungry, but he knew Vokara would scold him if he didn’t eat, so he picked at the plate.  Eventually, he fell into a restless sleep. After he had slept for only a few hours, however, he was woken up by his comlink beeping on the table next to him. He groped for it with his good hand and switched it on. 

“Kenobi,” He said into it blearily.  

“We need you in the Council chambers,” Mace Windu said without preamble.  “We’ve just received a rather disturbing transmission, and the Council is convening to discuss it.”

“Mace, I can’t walk.  I can’t even get out of bed, let alone make it to the Council chambers.”

“Vokara Che is on her way with hover chair now.  It’s about Anakin, Obi-Wan.” Obi-Wan’s heart seemed to stop at the mention of Anakin.    
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Obi-Wan said, and ended the call.  Unfortunately, this meant that he was left alone with his thoughts until Vokara arrived with the hover chair.  During the call, Mace had sounded....not shaken, not exactly – Obi-Wan didn’t think any development would actually be able to actually shake Mace Windu – but he had sounded….perhaps perturbed was the right word.  There weren’t many things in the galaxy that could surprise Mace, and the fact that it had to do with Anakin...well, if Obi-Wan was honest with himself, it scared him. What horrific manner of death had the Jedi investigation found?

Finally, the door to his room opened to reveal Vokara pushing a hover chair.  

“I’d like you to know, Obi-Wan, that I strongly protested against this,” She said, clearly irritated.  “I would have very much prefered for your leg to not be moved for at least another twelve to twenty-four hours.  Master Windu absolutely  _ insisted  _ that you be at this Council meeting, however, so you’ll be going in a hover chair.   _ Do not  _ at any point try to walk, you’ll only increase the damage to your leg and lengthen your recovery time.  And you are to report back to the Halls of Healing as soon as the meeting is over – your leg will need another healing session before we can release you for good, and I’ll need to take another look at your arm-”

“I’ll be back, Vokara,” Obi-Wan said, cutting off Vokara’s rant without any of his usual sarcasm.  She looked at him in surprise. “Mace said the meeting is about Anakin,” he said, to answer her unasked question.  The irritated look slid off her face. 

“Force, I’m sorry, Obi-Wan.”  She said. He shrugged, the movement lopsided due to his broken collarbone.  There really wasn’t anything else he had to say about the meeting. 

“I’ll help you into the chair, then.” Vokara said.  “I don’t want you moving that leg any more than you absolutely have to.”  Pushing the chair to the edge of the bed, she moved to help Obi-Wan disentangle his leg from the bed’s blankets.  She then backed up and closed her eyes, extending a hand with an expression of intense concentration on her face. Obi-Wan felt himself being slowly lifted up off the bed, and moved through the air to be set down gently onto the cushioned chair.  He grimaced as he was set down – he disliked the feeling of being held by nothing but the Force when he wasn’t the one in control of it. 

“Controls for the chair are by your left hand,” Vokara said.  “I assume you’d rather pilot the chair on your own?”

“Yes, thank you Vokara.” Obi-Wan said, gingerly trying out the controls to get a feel for them.  Since he’d be stuck with this thing for at least a week, he made a mental note to ask Hronda – a friend of his who had been hover chair bound ever since an illness contracted as a youngling had cost her the use of her legs – for advice on how to navigate the Temple’s many levels while in a chair.  Since the Council chambers were on the same floor as his room in the Halls of Healing, he doubted it would be an issue tonight, but it would probably come up later in the week. Cautiously, he moved the chair forward, toward the door and out of the room. He was grateful for the fact that the halls were nearly empty – a side effect of the late hour – since it meant he didn’t have to navigate his way around people as well as the halls themselves.  When he finally made it to the Council chambers, he was the last one to arrive. It would have been ludicrous to try to get himself out of the hover chair and into the Council chair that he normally claimed, so he simply wheeled the hover chair in front his seat and remained in the chair. Mace waited a moment to make sure he was settled, and then spoke. 

“Now that we’re all here,” he said, looking out at the Jedi – some there physically, and some only as holograms. “An hour ago, the following message from Garos IV was received by one of the Temple communication monitors.  She immediately alerted myself and Master Yoda about its contents, and after watching it...well, you’ll see why we believed it to be necessary that the full Council reviews it.” As Mace spoke, he tapped a button on the side of his chair, and a hologram of a clone in armor sprang to life in the middle of the room.  

“Generals, we urgently request backup.  At least a hundred of my men are dead, and more are wounded...General Skywalker led us into a trap-” the sound of blasters could be heard from the message, and the clone broke off his message and turned around briefly to return fire.  Obi-Wan’s mind was caught on the word “Skywalker.”  _ How…?  Anakin was on Coruscant, he couldn’t have been on Garos IV… _

The clone’s message wasn’t finished though.  After a few moments, he lowered his blaster and turned back to the transmitter.  

“We were betrayed, Generals.  General Skywalker led us into a Separatist ambush, and then began attacking my men alongside the droids.  He-” The clone’s voice cut off as a blur swept across the hologram, neatly severing the clone’s head from his shoulders.  As the clone’s body crumpled, another figure stepped into view, leaning down presumably to turn the hologram off. Even through the blue light of the hologram, the new figure looked to be in horrible physical condition.  His long hair was greasy and hung unkempt around his face, and his eyes were dark and lifeless. Even stranger, a curling dark symbol – a half circle crossed through with three curving lines – marred his right cheek. If the figure hadn’t been moving, Obi-Wan probably would have mistaken it for a corpse.  

It took him a moment to recognize it was Anakin.  The hologram went blank an instant later. 

Obi-Wan couldn’t breath.  For a moment, pure joy swept through him – Anakin was  _ alive, _ and the proof of it was right in front of him.  Horror beat the joy back, however, as the implications of the message he’d just seen hit him. Anakin was alive, but in what state?  What had happened that could have caused Anakin to slaughter his own men?

“How can he be alive?” Obi-Wan’s voice was choked and hoarse.  “I  _ felt  _ his death.   _ Ahsoka  _ felt his death.”

“Clearly, you both were mistaken.” Agen Kolar said dryly.  “Knight Skywalker is obviously quite alive and well, considering his actions in betraying the Republic.”  Obi-Wan fought back a surge of anger. Kolar had always been vocal in his distrust of Anakin, and it seemed that the master’s disdain had not decreased after news of Anakin’s death.  

“It’s likely that Skywalker has been tortured or coerced into serving the Separatists.” Kit Fisto’s hologram flickered as he spoke.  “He showed no signs of the Dark Side when last we spoke several days ago.” 

“A Jedi isn’t broken in a day, Master Fisto,” Agen Kolar argued.  “Skywalker was last seen on Coruscant less than than forty-eight hours ago.  Even Dooku could not have tortured him into submission so quickly.” Obi-Wan watched numbly as arguments began to break out among the other Council members.  Part of him was screaming that Anakin wasn’t a traitor, could not be a traitor, and everyone on the Council needed to know that. The rest of him was frozen, unable to move or say anything.  Anakin was dead – but he wasn’t. He was alive, and the Separatists had him, and they had to save him-

A sharp wooden rapping noise silenced the arguing Masters.  Yoda stood up from his chair, his gimer stick resting on the floor. 

“Coercion this is not.  Betrayal, this is not.” He said.

“But Master-” Kolar began to argue until Yoda’s glare silenced him.  

“Recognize the tattoo on Skywalker’s cheek, I do.  The symbol of Ataraxia, it is.” Yoda said darkly. Dead silence filled the Council room for a moment, and then-

“Master, that’s impossible!” Saesee Tiin exclaimed.  “Ataraxia has not been used for over two thousand years.  The knowledge of how to perform the ceremony has been lost for centuries.”

“Lost to the Jedi, perhaps.”  Yoda said. “Lost to the Sith, it were not.  Powerful, Dooku has grown. Possible it is that found an ancient holocron, he has.”

“It would explain why Master Kenobi and Padawan Tano suffered so much psychic backlash.  Ataraxia breaks any Force-bonds the victim has.” Mace Windu said thoughtfully. 

“It would also explain the sudden reverse in Skywalker’s allegiances.” Ki-Adi-Mundi said.  Obi-Wan was still frozen, unable to believe or comprehend what Yoda had said. Ataraxia was an abomination, a violation of the Force.  It was a fate that was considered by many Jedi historians to be worse than death. For Anakin to have suffered such a fate was unthinkable, and yet that was the truth that was staring him in the face.  As Obi-Wan struggled to come to terms with this, the Council’s conversation moved on without him.

“The Senate won’t take it lightly that one of us – let alone such a notable and publically known Jedi – has gone rogue. We must stop Skywalker before he inflicts more damage on others,” Ki-Adi-Mundi said.  

“We’ll assemble a team of Jedi Masters to search for Skywalker and stop him, by any means necessary.” Most of the Council nodded at Mace Windu’s words.

“Masters, you can’t really mean that!  Anakin is a Jedi, and we do not kill our own.” Obi-Wan’s voice was choked and hoarse, but he finally managed to speak.  

“Obi-Wan, you know that there is no way to save someone from Ataraxia,” Plo Koon said.  “Anakin Skywalker’s body may still be breathing, but the Anakin you trained is dead.”

“You know know Skywalker better than any of us; can you really say that he would not rather be dead than enslaved by the Sith?” Mace asked. There was nothing Obi-Wan could say to that, and so he only shook his head in silence as plans were made for the hunting – and potential death – of the man who was both brother and son to him. 

* * *

Once it was decided which Jedi would be sent to find Anakin, the Council meeting was dismissed. Obi-Wan was almost grateful for the hover chair, because even if his legs had been functional, he wouldn’t have trusted them to support him right now.  He was one of the first Council members out of the chamber’s doors. He thought he heard Mace call his name, but he ignored him – he didn’t really feel like speaking to any of his fellow Councillors right now – and hoped that Mace would take the hint.  Luckily, he did, and Obi-Wan continued to move alone down the empty hallway. 

Ahsoka.  He had to tell Ahsoka.  The thought broke through the fog that had taken over his mind ever since he had seen the holo.  Ahsoka deserved to know that her Master was alive, and yet worse than dead. Without consciously trying to, Obi-Wan found himself moving down the hallways that led to the quarters that had formerly been shared by Anakin and Ahsoka.  He knew it was the middle of the night, and Ahsoka was probably asleep, but he simply couldn’t wait. Vokara would insist that he return to the Halls of Healing for at least another day, and he would prefer what he was about to say to not be overheard.  He pressed the buzzer on the door panel that alerted the occupant to visitors without opening the door. Several moments later, the door slid open to reveal Ahsoka. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying. 

“I have...news.” He said, uncharacteristically uncertain on how to begin.  “About….about Anakin.” Ahsoka’s eyes widened, and she stepped back from the door to allow Obi-Wan’s chair to glide through the doorway.  She led him to the chamber’s small sitting room, where she sat down on the cramped couch in the corner of the room. Anakin’s Force-presence hadn’t quite faded yet from the room, and Obi-Wan could feel it as though it was a ghost – which in some ways, he supposed it was.  

“Have you ever heard of Ataraxia?” He asked Ahsoka.  She blinked. Clearly, that wasn’t what she had expected him to say.  

“No, I haven’t, Master Kenobi,” she said, sounding impatient.  

“It’s a practice of the ancient Sith used to control Force-Sensitive beings.  The Sith literally pours the Force into the victim’s mind to overwhelm them. The Force acts as a drug, creating a state of euphoria for the victim that completely numbs them to the world around them. The Sith can then control the victim’s body as they please.  The victim becomes a puppet of the Sith, and their lightsaber, if they have one, turns gray due to their confused connection with the Force. It’s not surprising that you’ve never heard of it – until today, there hadn’t been an instance of it for two thousand years.” Obi-Wan said.  

“Until today?” Ahsoka asked, her voice a whisper.  

“The Council received a message from a clone on Garos IV...Anakin is alive, Ahsoka, but Dooku is controlling him.” Obi-Wan said.  Ahsoka’s face crumpled. 

“No,” she whispered.  “No, that’s not possible.  Skyguy wouldn’t...Anakin would fight it, he wouldn’t let Dooku-”

“I watched him kill one of his own men, Ahsoka.  Dooku has him.” He hated to say it, hated to put her through this, but she deserved to know.  This time, she didn’t cry. Obi-Wan almost wished she would, because anything would be better than the cold, hard look on her face.  

“We’re going to get him back,” Obi-Wan said.  “There’s no known cure for Ataraxia, but I plan to spend every minute of my medical leave researching it.  If there’s a way to save Anakin, I’ll find it.” Hope began to dawn in Ahsoka’s eyes. 

“I’ll help you.” She said resolutely.  “Even though Anakin is alive...I’m sure the Council will still want me to choose another Master.  If you’re my master, then I’ll be given leave for as long as you are. I can help you research. That is...if you’d still be willing to take me as a padawan,” she said, suddenly uncertain.  

“Of course I’m still willing to take you.” Obi-Wan said. “And I’m sure I’ll need the help.  Uncovering information on Ataraxia won’t be easy. We’ll have to sift through most of the information the Order has stored on the Sith to find anything.”  It was a daunting task. There was no list of files that contained information on Ataraxia - it was too obscure of a topic to be catalogued - and the Order kept extensive records on the ancient Sith.  Most of the files were heavily restricted, but as a council member Obi-Wan had access to nearly all of them. 

“We can do it,” Ahsoka said, somewhat grimly.  “Anakin would never forgive us if we left him to be controlled by the Sith.”

“No, he wouldn’t.” Obi-Wan agreed, equally serious.  He didn’t say it aloud, but he knew they were both thinking it: Anakin would rather be dead than live under the Sith’s control.  “We’ll save him, Ahsoka.” He said, because he didn’t want to think about the consequences if they couldn’t. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left comments! I am Bad At Replying To Things, so I don't always respond, but know that I really do appreciate hearing all your thoughts on this!!   
> Also shout out to my beta Xevinali, who helped me get this chapter together.  
> I'd apologize for the fact that this has basically been 3 straight chapters of angst, but...I'm really not sorry, so yeah. I think there'll be one more chapter of emotional turmoil before a slightly more lighthearted chapter 5, so that's something to look forward to, I guess?  
> Thanks for reading everyone! Feel free to hit me up on tumblr at obiwanwhat.


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